


Untitled Drabble #1

by internalunrest



Series: Tumblr Prompts & Drabbles [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Meet-Cute, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 11:23:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7047658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/internalunrest/pseuds/internalunrest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the prompt "I was trying to be cool, but I sprained my leg and now you're carrying me on your back to the infirmary to aid me"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled Drabble #1

Louis' life is a joke. Honestly. He's constantly surprising himself with the levels of stupidity he can manage, and how well his schemes can go awry. By the mercy of all that is holy, though, Louis _usually_ doesn't end up embarrassing himself in front of, say, _the hottest bloke he's ever fucking laid eyes on,_ Jesus _Christ._ He can handle humiliation in front of his mates, even somewhat enjoys the way Niall will rib him for ages about a particularly spectacular show of stupidity.  
  
As it stands, and it should be emphasized, _Louis' life is a fucking joke._ He's not sure what really possessed him to climb the scaffolding, other than the fact that it was unattended and he wouldn't be himself if he didn't itch to get into things he shouldn't. He's currently laying on the ground, limbs sprawled around himself, ankle throbbing painfully. There are people milling about a ways off, but Louis is focused on the gorgeous eyes looking down, directly into his face from above. There's a mop of hair surrounding the eyes, looks like it might be curly but it's too long and heavy to turn into true ringlets. The brows above these gorgeous eyes are furrowed, concern evident on the guys face. God. He's gorgeous. "Y'alright?" the guy asks, and it startles Louis. He realizes he hasn't breathed since he got the wind knocked out of him during his fall, and this revelation hits him in the form of deep, wracking coughs. The guys eyes widen in alarm and he pulls Louis into a sitting position, his stupidly large hand resting on Louis' upper back. During the move, Louis' limbs move to pull in to balance himself, and a sharp pain shoots through him, causing him to yelp.  
  
He grabs for his ankle reflexively, gritting his teeth as he hisses out a long breath. The guy looks at his ankle, then sticks his face back in Louis' line of sight.  
  
"That looks a bit swollen already, mate, you should get to the infirmary."  
  
Louis bites down hard on his lip, eyes watering for a moment as a wave of pain crashes over him. Of course he would sprain his ankle at a fucking weekend music festival, when he's meant to be dancing and drinking and (hopefully) fucking all weekend. Goddamnit. He nods, makes to stand, and instantly crashes back down to the grass. The guy tuts and stands, bending himself in half to lean over Louis. He hooks his arms under Louis' armpits, mumbles a helpful, "here, come on, you've got it. Don't stand on it. That's it." With some awkward shuffling and some major wincing from Louis, they come to a position where they're both standing, Louis leaning heavily on his stranger. Savior. Both, whatever. He makes to hobble forward and nearly collapses again. _Fuck_.  
  
"Hey, whoa, whoa," the guy says, wrapping an arm around Louis' waist. "Slow down, there. You'll make it worse. What's your name?" he asks, and his face is uncomfortably close to Louis' own. He's got a bit of sweat on his hairline, his upper lip, and Louis wants to lick it. Hm. Louis tries to answer and his throat is dry, causing him to notice that he hasn't said a word to this guy yet. Jesus. What a knob. He clears his throat, tries again.  
  
"Louis. I, uh, I'm Louis. Thank you for helping," he tacks on, swaying a little into this guy who's extremely pretty, who gives an approving hum at learning Louis name.  
  
"I'm Harry," he drawls, a wide smile overtaking his face. "And it's no problem, mate. Though I don't think you'll make it there any time this century even if you hop really fast." His face takes on a thoughtful expression, and before Louis knows it, Harry is squatting in front of him, looking back over his shoulder. Louis almost loses his balance when Harry moves away from him, and he catches himself with his hands on Harry's shoulders.  
  
"Um," Louis says, eloquently. Harry gives an impatient huff, reaching around to put those giant paws around Louis' calves.  
  
"Hop on, I'll carry you to the first aid tent."  
  
Louis starts to argue, beg off, but Harry gives a sudden pull and Louis almost falls on top of him, his ankle protesting all the while. Fine, _fine_ , what the fuck, how his this his life. He lifts his ailing foot first, then the other, and wraps his arms around Harry's neck. A _stranger's_ neck. Harry doesn't seem to mind, though, just hoists Louis up a bit higher before standing. Harry is rather quite tall, and it's a bit odd to be looking at the ground from this height. He doesn't realize he's talking out loud until Harry's frame shakes underneath him, chuckling softly. Great. Why is Louis so _weird?_  
  
"If you're going to climb on things you shouldn't, you should really have a spotter," Harry lectures, voice light and teasing.  
  
Louis squeezes his thighs a little around Harry's waist and pointedly does _not_ think about the two of them doing this horizontally. And preferably facing each other. And naked. "I did, but he wandered off with some bird right when I got near the top. Couldn't very well just give up, could I?" he asks, and its rhetorical. Harry answers anyway.  
  
"I don't suppose," he responds, and Louis can hear the smile on his face.  
  
They can see the first aid tent off a little ways, and Louis sets his chin on this gorgeous boy's shoulder, determined to enjoy these last short moments of grace that he's been granted.  
"Is it bad if I'm a bit relieved you fell?" Harry muses, turning his head a little as if to look at Louis, but they're too close to see each other. Before Louis can answer, Harry continues, "I saw you dancing last night but couldn't quite work myself up to approach you. You're rather intimidatingly fit."  
  
Louis barks out a laugh, surprise and flattery coursing through him. "That's a bit fucked, wouldn't you think? You're not a sadist getting off on my pain, are you?' he asks, trying to make the situation funny in order to deflect from the butterflies in his stomach.  
  
Harry shakes his head and his hair tickles Louis' cheek. It's perfect. "No, no, nothing like that. I'm just glad I get to be the one helping you to this tent. Maybe, if you, ah," he starts, and he sounds nervous for a moment before he recovers. "Maybe, if you'd like, I'll carry you later. Back to _your_ tent."  
  
Okay, Louis can't miss the implication there. He grins, wide, as Harry ducks under the edge of the first aid tent.  
  
"How kind of you, Harold," he appreciates, before quieting his voice a bit so he isn't letting everyone around them in on his blatant flirting. "Maybe, if we're lucky, they'll put me on bed rest until I'm healed."  
  
Harry's hands tighten a bit around Louis' thighs, before he slowly lowers Louis to the ground, not letting go of him. Their eyes meet and Harry grins wide, dimples adorning the sides of his incredibly pink lips. Louis smiles back. Maybe is life isn't so much of a joke as he thought twenty minutes ago.

**Author's Note:**

> so! as you can see from looking at my other works, i'm horrible at finishing things. part of the problem is that i have nobody to tell me to keep it moving, as i don't talk about my writing irl. if anyone would be interested in possibly being a beta for me, i do have some things started. if you're interested, feel free to send me a message here and we'll work out the details. thank you so much for taking the time to read my fics, it means the world!


End file.
